


A Letter from Dr Saint-John Watson to Lt Sherlock Holmes

by alltoseek, JessamyGriffith



Series: The White Clouds, Flying [2]
Category: Aubrey-Maturin Series - Patrick O'Brian, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Napoleonic Wars, Epistolary, M/M, Master and Commander - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessamyGriffith/pseuds/JessamyGriffith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the year of 1812, England still carried out its bloody war with France upon the seas. Gravely injured in action, Dr Saint-John Watson, physician and ship's surgeon aboard HMS Fortitude wrote a letter to Lt Sherlock Holmes of His Majesty's Navy, who at the time was banished to the Provincial Marines in Upper Canada.</p><p>This letter, recently discovered and put up for auction, relates Dr Watson's experiences and the trials of life aboard a fighting ship. It is not only of great interest to historians, but a glimpse into the friendship and esteem that existed between these two men.</p><p>  <a href="http://www.mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=76935">Now translated into Chinese,</a> by rsh437.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Letter from Dr Saint-John Watson to Lt Sherlock Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> This piece stands alone, but is set in the same universe as [Many Weary Months](http://archiveofourown.org/works/509636/chapters/897570). It is not, however, a direct reply, having been written and sent before Lt Holmes wrote his letter to Dr Watson. Owing to the distances, it is most likely the letter arrived in Upper Canada after Lt Holmes' promotion and his departure from Fort Amherstburg to return to the war in Europe and command of his new ship. The letter would have made its laborious way back across the Atlantic to later be placed in Captain Holmes' hand, however.
> 
> This letter is a fan-work in ink, by [alltoseek](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek) in reply to the letter [JessamyGriffith](http://archiveofourown.org/users/JessamyGriffith) sent her, which can be read in [Many Weary Months](http://archiveofourown.org/works/509636/chapters/897570).
> 
> Many many thanks to beta heather_mist, without whom Dr Watson's letter would have been much less interesting, and much more confusing!
> 
> Footnotes: Again, large amounts, and many apologies for those people who know perfectly well what we are trying to say and hate to see those annoying little numbers in their text!

#  **BBC** NEWS

# Dr Watson Letter and Holmes Seal to be Auctioned

A letter written by naturalist and physician Doctor St-John Watson to Lieutenant Sherlock Holmes is to be auctioned in London after being found at a house in Wembury. A brass seal engraved allegedly belonging to Admiral Holmes is also going on the block.

The author of several 19th century books on nature, Dr Watson is most well-known for his association with Holmes. Holmes, a lieutenant at the time the letter was written, is famous for his naval victories over the French during the Napoleonic Wars.

In the letter, Dr Watson recounts experiences as a ship’s surgeon aboard the _Fortitude_ and the dangers of life at sea.

"A sharpshooter in the  _Phoebe's_  top pistoled me in the shoulder before I had even the chance to board,” Dr Watson writes. “I resorted to taking out the shot myself, which was precisely as painful and excruciating an experience as you would imagine."

“I am glad you were spared that ordeal.“

[ ](http://www.flickr.com/photos/crimsongriffin/8246372203/)

Shelby Kiffer, from Sotheby’s Auctions, said the late owner, Melvin Farnham, was a distant relative of Mrs Welles. As a child Mrs Welles, who was born Molly Hooper, lived in a house neighbouring the Holmes family when they resided in Cornwall.

Mr Kiffer added: "Such a letter is wonderful to handle since it was read and enjoyed by my famous naval hero. The esteem and friendship between Dr Watson and Admiral Holmes shines through with every word.”

"In these indifferent times it is a pleasure to see a man who was injured and tired but cared enough to take pen in hand to write to a friend."

The letter, which dates from the spring of 1812, was discovered in Wembury, Devon.

[ ](http://www.flickr.com/photos/crimsongriffin/8247440660/)

* * *

 

 My Dear Sherlock,

I do so hope your own summer is passing in a much less interesting fashion than my own – Ah, but first I must beg your indulgence for the poor & likely unrecognisable quality of my handwriting. I am forced to resort to using my right hand, my left shoulder having sustained an injury severe enough to prevent the use of my left hand for the time being. God willing, I should recover full – or mostly full – use of it again, but that will yet be some time. For now I am obliged to allow it to rest as much as possible. Although in my youth I cursed my tutors , the glaikit numpties1, for their insistence on my using my right hand (an insistence, by-the-by, emphasised by a sound beating if I failed to comply) and, carnaptious2 child that I was, I defied them in this at every turn, yet now I find I have reason to be grateful for their strictures as I am still able to write to you, albeit poorly and slowly.

Unless your most perceptive eye has uncovered some other proof conclusive to your sceptical mind, I expect some suspicion remains that I might not be your own particular friend St-John, but an imposter writing in disguise for some nefarious purpose obscure to any mind lesser than your own. Perhaps if I will recount the circumstances of my wounding, the telling of it will reveal enough of my own self to convince even you of the veracity of my identity, though you see, and I am convinced, sometimes seek out, plots and snares surrounding you everywhere.

To my tale: The  _Fortitude_  had been enjoying remarkable success against our various enemies and our captain was eager with such a string of luck and a battle-hardened crew to attempt the cutting-out of one of the few vessels to evade us, even though many of our officers were already away in prizes. The sloop – _Phoebe_ , a French privateer – had gained what she believed was a safe harbour but Captain Dillard was intent on proving her wrong, and most obligingly asked me to take charge of one of the boats for the mission, pressing me with gratifying compliments on my skill with a pistol. My two able mates3 would remain with the _Fortitude_ , and as I had little difficulty in convincing myself that most of our wounded would be on the prospective prize, I did not hesitate to accept, with all my usual self-deprecating reluctance, with which you are so familiar. That is to say, no sooner had I grasped the gist of Dillard's question than I burst out with, “By God, yes, certainly!”

My careful consideration of the matter took into account every circumstance but one: that the men aboard our target would be as equally skilled with small arms. A sharpshooter in the  _Phoebe's_  top pistoled me in the shoulder before I had even the chance to board. My first command was thus cut ignominiously short. Fortunately, my boat's crew were indeed all able men, and followed their well-understood orders to fulfil their task aboard _Phoebe,_  whilst I was confined to the care of the boat-keeper. The Fortitudes4 concluded their business with minimal fuss, wheeching5 through the privateer and her men at great speed, and my boat was one of the first to return to the ship with our wounded.

Competent though my assistants are, I yet did not trust them with the delicate task of the surgical repair required by the tangled mess of muscle, tendon, and ligament that is a bullet-ridden shoulder. I may entrust this mortal shell to a fellow physician, or perhaps even you, my friend, as your hands do not entirely lack grace or talent (as I have not failed to note, in our many hours of playing music together – in this at least, I saw and I observed) and your somewhat morbid interest in anatomy is a weel-kent6 thing. However, I will not place my future in the hands of a soul whose principal qualification is a certificate from the Naval Board. Alas, without any such superior being to hand, I resorted to taking out the shot myself, which was precisely as painful and excruciating an experience as you would imagine. However, with my mates holding a mirror, and otherwise ably assisting me, I was ultimately successful, and moreover, I avoided causing further damage to the afflicted area – which was the greatest relief to my mind, I assure you. Here also I found I must give grudging thanks for living in a predominantly right-handed world. Many trivial details, each by itself inconsequential, in the usual procedure of surgery at hospital, add together to significant inconvenience for a left-handed physician. If you include the suspicious and contemptuous looks from other students and mentors, the frequent flings about cack-handedness7, then perhaps you'll understand why I choose to perform right-handed much of my time. Easy enough now to arrange my sick-bay and direct my mates as I please, but not so much back then as an un-influential student. Out of necessity I developed some dexterity in my right hand.

To you only, my dearest friend, will I confide how profoundly I did long for you at that dire time. I know your abrasive, even contemptuous, words would brace me for the ordeal. Even your silent presence would support me, knowing I was under your penetrative gaze that misses nothing – how would I have been able to disappoint you? However, knowing you as well as I do, I had at least your spectre in my imagination, your voice in my mind, if not my ear, and that had to suffice.

Perhaps this account has inspired in you a similar wish to have been present; however, you should consider yourself fortunate you were not, as soon afterwards I succumbed to a severe calenture8 of long duration. Nothing is more tedious than nursing an insensible patient through a painful fever, and I am glad you were spared that ordeal – and I spared the embarrassment of being seen in such a state, one which requires so much assistance.

Looking over the last couple of paragraphs, perhaps reading these lines will prove even more discomfiting to you than being present in my time of affliction. However, I will leave them in, excessively sentimental though they be, as they represent the true state of my feelings at the time, and I know you value the truth above all, even over the indignity of being exposed to the sensibilities of a fellow human being.

(-Oh to find someone in this benighted place who can adequately mend a pen!9 I cringe when I look over these pages, filled with splotches and splatters as though I had never held a pen before. Perhaps 'twould not be so bad if you did refuse to believe me your eloquent correspondent St-John Watson.)

To spare you further discomfiture, I will turn to the account of one of the contents of this rather bulky package.

During my illness I was fortunate enough to have fallen under the care of a fellow physician-cum-naval surgeon; a prodigiously knowledgeable, diligent, and talented one – the author of Diseases Most Usual Among Seamen10, which as you know has become something of a Bible amongst us surgeons. I had hoped to impress this paragon with the tale of my self-surgery; however, his response was merely to detail at length his own self-removal of a bullet which had struck his third rib and deviated across the septum, lodging under the pericardium. He went in through the chest, cutting right through the rib and having an assistant hold the bone up out of the way. He removed the slug without nicking so much as a lung. I tried valiantly but fear my simpler procedure, whilst providing its own challenges, could not compare to that feat. I suppose many naval surgeons have accomplished similar deeds, as there is generally no one else about should one be injured. I should learn a bit more humility, I expect; yet that has oft proven a most difficult task for me. My esteemed colleague did congratulate me on my relatively quick recovery from the calenture: his own lasted several painful weeks.

Our respective credentials thus established, our intercourse turned to the delights of sea travel for those with naturalist inclinations. Again my own experience fell far short of his; however, my sea career is yet in its infancy; and his many laments on lost opportunities due to the unnatural hurry of a Navy whose motto appears to be “Lose Not a Minute” lead me to believe there is much more awaiting discovery for adventuresome souls.

I commiserated with him on the mistaken priorities of an Armed Service in a time of War, and even worse, the frequent loss of those few collections made, to fire, shipwreck, and rats; he then offered me a specimen that had managed to survive the many hazards. This I in turn present to you. The three-toed sloth Bradypus tridactylus is a curious New World creature, found in the warmer latitudes of South America. Remarkably affectionate, this one clung to my new friend upon first meeting him, and was taken aboard11. It enjoyed shipboard life for several weeks, sleeping away the days hanging from this edifice or that, until it was found that a shipmate, desiring of some of the creature's affections as well, had tempted it with rum and other spirits, ultimately reducing the puir beastie12 to a drunkard much like any sailor ashore. It was then placed in the care of an order of Franciscans in Rio, and upon a return trip the doctor learnt that the wee creature had been found dead of an alcoholic coma after plundering the cupboard where the sacramental wines were stored. It was then well-preserved, thus pickled both inside and out. I do hope study of it brings you some pleasure, lost as you are in the dreich13 Northern Wastes.

The thought of you slowly petrifying in the mochie14 cold as I lounge at my leisure in this lovely Mediterranean warmth reminds me that I have also provided for you some of the delectable local honey. I understand our European bee has been imported to America, but I remain concerned should it be unable to make use of the local flora in a tasty fashion, knowing as I do your delight in adding this sweet to your tea. Additionally this particular treat has been infused with the anti-scorbutics15 abundant here, but alas so scarce farther away from Equatorial Climes. Please enjoy, and think kindly of me and the long-lost Sun as you do.

-Ahk – Damn + Blast this bloody Pen! I am sorely tempted to switch to pencil. If I had any other activity to fill my days I should not even go on blethering16 to you as I do. I can already imagine your laughter at these gowky17 pages – Oh the game you will make of me next you write – only to you, my dearest friend, would I leave myself open to such fun. I pray you will burn these sheets once you have read them - Not the elegant example of my epistolary Art I wish to leave to Posterity.

I hear the courier from the packet, and  ~~can at last in good conscience~~  must quickly bring this missive to a close. I beg you would take greater care of yourself than I have of mine (though I know you won't, alas).

Yours aye18,

St John Watson

 

PS. Along with this note I enclose a seal and wax, as I noticed your last to me did not bear the Holmes seal I have come to associate with your missives. I do not doubt but that you have lost it in one of the many travails that occur at sea. Not daring to presume to commission your family's seal, and supposing that you have perhaps chosen not to use it out of another conflict with Lord Holmes, I have sent instead a design of unique style – at least I have not seen it used before. I expect you will ~~have~~  understand the significance of my choice. Also included is a pen and some paper, in case those have also gone astray. I should not reproach you on scarcity of your correspondence – mine has hardly been better, for reasons this letter has explained. The waywardness of mail at sea is as familiar to me as to you. Nevertheless, should you have lost these items along with your seal, I have taken the liberty of replenishing them as well. Particularly the paper, as I am well-acquainted with your wasteful habit of not crossing your lines19. An example my guid20 Scot's thrifty soul is piqued to follow, but this writing is illegible enough as it is, and I find ready prize-money has made me liberal in the spending of my newly-acquired wealth.

S-J H W

* * *

 

#  **Sotheby’s**

[ **Fine Books & Manuscripts ** ](http://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/2011/fine-books-manuscripts-n08811.html)

London | 29th January 2011 | N08811

 

**Lot 221**

**19** **th** **century letter Addressed to Lieutenant Sherlock Holmes written by Dr. Saint-John Hamish Watson (8 pages) with brass seal**

 **Estimate:** £3,000 and £5,000

Handwritten letter addressed to Sherlock Holmes and signed by Dr St-John Watson, dated to spring 1812, 8 pages (14 by 21.5 cm) with centre crease; With: Envelope made from same paper and closed with sealing wax, now broken; And with: Brass seal (height 4.2 cm) with image of a bee.

 

**Catalogue Note**

An original personal letter and brass seal, written by Dr St-John Watson to Lieutenant Sherlock Holmes… A rare existing personal letter which provides insight not only into the life of Doctor Watson, but his friendship with then-Lieutenant Sherlock Holmes. Based upon the naval battle described within the letter, Dr Watson most likely wrote and sent his missive in April or May of 1812...

 

 **LOT SOLD.** **£** **12,200** _(Hammer Price with Buyer's Premium. Buyer: Anonymous.)_

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

Footnotes:

 

 

1 Glaikit - foolish, vacant. Numpty - a stupid person. Basically, empty-headed fools.

2 Carnaptious - someone who is permanently angry and looking for a fight.

3 Able men - seamen of experience. In this sentence, St-John refers to the ship's surgeon's assistants, who sometimes possessed a little medical experience of their own.

4 It was common to call seamen as a group by their ship's name. For example, in _Master and Commander_ , Captain Jack Aubrey's crew were called Sophies.

5 Wheeching - Scottish word meaning to move quickly or rapidly

6 weel-kent - well known.

7 Cack-handed - insulting phrase used for people who use their left hand, also meaning 'clumsy.' In many European languages including English, the word for the direction "right" also means "correct" or "proper". Throughout history, being left-handed was considered negative, with the more superstitious believing it had connotations of being like the Devil, as the Bible stated that the righteous enter Heaven and sit at the right side of God, and sinners pass on the left to Hell. The Latin word  _sinistra_  meant "left" as well as "unlucky" and this double meaning survives in European derivatives of Latin, and in the English word "sinister.' Children exhibiting left-handedness were often beaten into using their right hand. The superstitions against left-handed people survived up to the later part of the 20th century.

8 Calenture - a tropical fever.

9 Pen-mending of quill pens was a delicate task requiring dexterity and skill. Special small knives called pen knives were commonly carried.

10 This book was written by Doctor Stephen Maturin.

11 The tale of the sloth's adventures can be found in _HMS Surprise_ by Patrick O'Brian.

12 puir beastie - poor beast

13 dreich – depressing, bleak

14 mochie – humid, damp, misty

15 Antiscorbutic - an agent that prevents or treats scurvy. Scurvy is caused by a lack of vitamin C in the diet. Signs of scurvy include tiredness, muscle weakness, joint and muscle aches, a rash on the legs, and bleeding gums. In the past, scurvy was common among sailors who were deprived of fresh fruits and vegetables for long periods of time.

16 Blethering - to talk at length

17 Gowky - awkward, clumsy

18 "Yours aye" in Scotland literally "yours ever" or "yours always", and it is a common closing to a note or letter, particularly amongst the military. "Aye" is commonly used in Scots songs and poetry instead of the English "ever" or "always", e.g. "I'll aye be wi' ye..", (I will always be with you.) The reverse can also be used and conveys a more intimate feeling, "Aye yours" meaning "Ever yours," or "Always yours."

19 Crossing your lines - due to the expense of the post in the 19th century (though not for military) and the expense of good paper, people sought to conserve space and money by writing a letter out, then turning the page sideways and writing more, crossing over the previous lines written. This often made letters difficult to read. See ( http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zVoCuIn_z64/S2h7C_ztWpI/AAAAAAAAAwk/Au7D522SGEk/s320/crossed+lines+in+letter.jpg )

20 Guid - good

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jessamy writes: It is entirely typical of how fans can be, that these letters, which started as a crazed idea for the ultimate fan-gift package in my brain, have evolved into a kind of wonderful old-school role play through the medium of paper and ink. I was terribly excited to get this, as I hadn't expected a reply, and it came on my birthday - serendipity! Within the package was, as described in the letter: honey, a quill, ink and paper, sealing wax, a seal, and a sloth (toy). Cheese, too, but that didn't last long! Huzzah for pen pals!
> 
> Will more be written? Possibly, though not all will be epistolary style. I wouldn't mind writing a few scenes of Dr Saint-John's and Captain Holmes' lives together, which hardly needs the medium of letters - though a diary entry would be fitting. Be that as it may, any further pieces will be under this new series, and may not be posted chronologically. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed the jokes and the cameo appearance!


End file.
